Alisa and I are having MORE problems with the landlady.
Alisa says she does understand (I don't). The woman is ninety-six, blah blah blah. You know. She's fucking ancient. And she doesn't like noise. And she's probably blind. And she definitely can't tell the difference between two people and more than two people people, like how she thinks that there are always people "coming and going and coming and going" all the time, when in truth, other than when we have guests over at reasonable hours (or like, the three isolated times we've had overnight guests), there are two of us. Coming. And Going. Once a day. Sometimes on weekends I don't even leave the house. Seriously. I should have bedsores.
I feel a little guilty (emphasis on a little). I mean, this phone call was probably brought on by my extraordinary drunken performance on Tuesday. I was probably VERY LOUD as I tried to get into my apartment and needed help from a co-worker to figure out how to use my keys. I'm sure that I was laughing and maybe even loudly "whispering" that "SHHHH. WE NEED TO BE QUIET BECAUSE MY LANDLADY IS A CRAZY OLD BAT."
However, it doesn't say anywhere in our lease that we can't have guests. And sure, we could be awful people and throw parties and have people over all the time. But because of her (and also because we're not really the loud crazy party animals she acts like we are, anyway) we've felt obligated to limit our guests to reasonable hours. And we're quiet as we can possibly be (Tuesday aside. I feel like Tuesday will fast become the exception to many of my rules). I mean what the hell does she honestly want from us? How could we be better tenants? By not moving or breathing when we're at home? Fuck her. It would be different if this had just happened once. But she's constantly bitching at us about how many people "live here," and last I counted it was two. I know she's nintey-six, but come. on. Get with the program.
I've had a shitty day. The only redeeming thing that happened to me was that I bought the Lemonheads CD on my way home and also picked up the Libertines because I felt like it. So honestly? I hope we are ruining her life. Because right now the unnecessary guilt I'm feeling because she's BATSHIT INSANE is ruining mine.
Like, who the hell has the audacity to call their tenants and ask "how many people" are living there? WHAT? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the bullshit. Can you honestly not tell the difference between us and our friends? Seriously? (My friends come in a wide variety of colors -- we are like a goddamn crayola box. I seriously don't see how she can confuse us and/or think that Alisa and I are multiple people when she's met our friends). We don't give out our keys, even though there's nothing in the lease about that, and let me tell you how much it sucks to have houseguests and have to say, "Yeah, you're going to have to get out at 7:30 or stay locked in the apartment all day. Thanks!"
God, this is all kinds of bullshit. Grey's Anatomy had better be good, because that's the only thing I am looking forward to tonight - and the rest of my life.
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